If Only We Got Along
by ilseneumcnn
Summary: Jetsam Jones had often been called the 'forgotten' of the Jones's twins. He disappeared one night, two years ago. Maybe that's why Jughead is so invested in Cheryl Blossom's story. However, one morning Archie finds Jetsam covered in bruises and blood. Nothing in Riverdale has ever been easy, but it just got a whole lot harder.
1. Chapter One: origins

**CHAPTER ONE:**

* * *

 ** _B_** _y the time you're reading this, I'll be gone. I promise I have a good reason for it, Jug. I promise I'll be back one day. I have some business to take care of. I promise I'll be home before you know it. You were always the good one, Jughead. Continue to be the good one._

 _Stay safe,_

 _Jetsam_

Jughead looked down at the envelope, which contained a picture of Jellybean. He sighed, hoping this was one of his twin's antics. Jetsam always did have a knack for the dramatics. Maybe that's why he listened to plays instead of reading books. Jughead blinked back tears. Their Mom had taken Jellybean away from their father, which meant away from them too. And now, Jetsam was gone.

Of course, Jughead talk to Jellybean, and his Mom. He talked to them whenever he could. Jughead just hated living with their father. Jetsam must have hated it to. But the two had grown up faster than imaginable.

They shared a room. The yelling between their father, FP, and Jetsam was constant. Jughead often watched them shout at one another, the fourteen year old red in the face. Jetsam lived a very unpredictable life.

Just like their father. That's why they didn't get along. Both were wild and unpredictable.

Jughead wiped the tears away. He had pulled this before. He'd be home in a day, two tops. Jughead laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The nerves in his stomach kept him up. The nerves in his throat made it hard to breathe. He couldn't imagine a life without his twin, even though they never really saw eye to eye.

—

Jetsam had a thing for fire. He often imagined himself being lit up, almost like a firework. It was from a young age he had this fascination. Everything he painted was reds, and yellows, and oranges. Jetsam was playing with matches one day. Jughead pulled them away from him.

The older twin had been burning himself on his palms. Jughead began to yell, "Jet, what are you doing? You could really hurt yourself!"

"Good, Jug. I want to hurt myself!" He grabbed another match, and lit it up. Jetsam brought it to his wrist.

Jughead blew it out.

—

Jughead remembered reading stories to Jetsam. He never had the patience to finish books. Plays and musicals though? Yeah, he could listen to those all day lost in magical world of fairytale endings and happily ever afters. Jughead never understood the idea of people singing to move a story along.

Jetsam's favorite story was Harry Potter. He always said he felt more like a Deatheater, though. Angry and mean. Jughead looked down, always telling him he wasn't evil. He was good.

"You're the good one, Jug." Jetsam would poke the top bunk, "I'm just a kid."

"We're both just kids." Jughead would kick down the bottom bunk and continue to read. After a few more pages, Jughead would hear the snores of his twin. He'd mark the page with a bookmark, and continue reading till his eyes were heavy and he could no longer keep them open.

They fought about the most trivial of stuff. Where they would sit in the trunk. What kind of candy they would get— because Jughead always saved his money from his grandparents. Jetsam would spend it all in a day. Jellybean would ask for licorice, and the argument would be settled. They argued about Jetsam's anger induced fights with their father. Sometimes, Jughead would have to hold him back in order to keep them from getting physical.

Jughead wanted to travel back in time to them reading books. Then laughing at movies. But, he didn't understand Jetsam. He didn't understand any part of the red faced boy. Jughead understood him when he was soft. When he hugged Jellybean after she fell down on the steps. Jughead understood this boy, the one that was gone so quickly as he came.

He never stayed for long.

—

Archie didn't like Jetsam. Betty loved him. The four were inseparable. Betty knew how to reel the tempered boy back. Archie knew how to rile him up. Jughead didn't know anything at all about his brother, some days. He didn't know how to figure him out, and that's what bothered him the most.

"Betty!" Jetsam ran over to her, and gave the nine year old girl a hug. Betty squealed, hugging him back tightly. Jughead watched with Archie as the two explored the playground together. Archie grinned, "Wanna play cops and robbers?"

"Sure…" Jughead ran after the other pair, pretending to be cops and very unsure of how this would turn out. Betty and Jetsam sat on a bench. Archie pretended to shoot Jetsam. Jetsam's mouth tightened as he stood up.

"Take it back, Archie!" He screamed. Archie put up his hands, "You were shot—!"

"Take it back!" Jetsam took a step forward. He pulled his sleeves up. Betty stood up, and grabbed his wrist.

"Jetty, what is that?" She pointed to a burn mark. Jetsam snapped his wrist back to his chest. Jughead walked over, and looked at his brother very sternly. Jetsam rolled his eyes, and held out his wrist.

Jughead shoved him away, "You're a brat." Jetsam stepped up closer, his nose touching Jughead's. The two were about the same height. You wouldn't think they were twins, but they were. They both had the same eyes and the same fighting spirit. Young and free.

"What did you say?" He barked at Jughead.

"You're. A. Brat." Jughead pushed his brother down. Jetsam landed with a thud. He glared from his seated position. Jughead noticed his face wasn't red like it normally was when he got mad. His eyes looked glossy, and his chest was flushed. Jughead looked down at his feet, and kicked the dirt. He never got mad, not like this.

Archie helped Jetsam up. Jetsam put his hands in his pocket and walked away. He walked off the playground to Pop's Chocklit Shoppe, where Pop's rang him up a chocolate milkshake. Pop's also called his father, who looked less than thrilled to see him.

Jetsam didn't flinch when he got home.

—

"...Dad! _Jughead_!" Archie yelled, concern filling his voice. Jughead rubbed his eyes, hearing Mr. Andrews run down the stairs. Jughead swung his legs out before standing up. He walked downstairs, faster than usual but slower than needed. Mr. Andrews bent over, helping someone up. His legs were cut up, and his arms were black and blue, hues of purple in the middle.

Archie pulled out his phone, and called 9-1-1. As Mr. Andrews helped the kid up, Jughead realized he recognized that voice when it said, "Don't."

Jughead knelt down, putting his hands on Jetsam's face, "Jet— Jet, is that— oh, oh my God who did this—?"

"I think we both know who did, Juggie."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you all enjoy! Just a heads up, it isn't going to be a linear story. There's going to be a lot of flashbacks, and things of that sort (kind of like this chapter). It isn't just going to go in a straight way. Jetsam is going to be a fun character to write, and I am excited to share that with you all. As always, you can find me on tumblr at dodiesrps. Have a nice day!


	2. Chapter Two: ties

TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
self harm through burning, hinted physical assault

Viewer Discretion Advised

* * *

CHAPTER TWO:

* * *

Jughead didn't go to Pop's for two weeks. He couldn't imagine leaving his brother's side. The nurses eventually made him get some rest when Jetsam got better. When the cuts had healed and the bruises were dimmed. After two weeks, Jetsam got to go home to his father. Jughead didn't know what else to do other than to go home for that week too.

Their father was not unhappy with him. No, he was pissed. Jetsam took every yelled word, every tinted red sentence spit at him with no anger. Instead, he cried. Jughead stepped in between the two.

"Enough, Dad." His tone was firm and level. FP ran a hand through his hair.

"You don't get to tell me when it's enough. He ran away—"

Jetsam's hands went to fists. His neck began to get hot, the color changing rapidly. Jughead knew what he was thinking, and that hurt more than anything. He knew that Jetsam ran because of his father. Because he didn't want to be a Serpent. Maybe he wanted to act in movies, plays, shows. Make his world of make-believe true.

"I don't want to live here." Was all Jetsam breathed out.

"Neither does your brother." FP spat. He took another sip of beer.

Jughead's lips pursed. The silence was weighted and strong.

No one spoke the rest of the night.

—

"Jetty…" Jughead blinked, seeing his brother standing up. The old nicknamed slipped out. Jetsam looked back at his brother, "Yeah?" His pupils were dilated, the blood on his knuckles fresh. Jughead got out of bed. Jetsam took a step back.

Jetsam closed his eyes, "I couldn't sleep. Haven't been able to since… well, y'know." Scuffing the floor with his shoes, Jetsam looked up, "I keep seeing him."

"Who?" Jughead felt in his chest the answer that was coming. Jetsam just stared, blankly at the wall. Jughead could see where he had punched it, repeatedly. He stood up and got some gauze to wrap up the wounds in.

Once he got back, Jet uttered four words.

"We both know who."

Jughead looked at him.

"You're lying."

—

Archie didn't know how to handle the call. He swung his legs off the bed, "Arch?"

"Jet?"

It was a rare occurrence for the two to talk without Jughead or Betty. He sounded like he was out of it. The worry in Archie's stomach pooled. Jetsam sounded like he was crying. Standing up, Archie heard nothing else from the phone.

Jetsam had hung up on him. Archie thought to get up. He thought to go out and tell his dad that something was wrong with Jetsam. But Archie knew that Jetsam wouldn't do anything stupid. He hadn't even gone anywhere but school and the Jones's trailer.

So, Archie climbed back in bed and didn't fall asleep.

He stayed up all night.

—

Betty looked over at Jetsam. He tightened his hands around the new to him backpack Archie gave him. He nodded, thin line for lips. Betty opened the doors and the school didn't look at him. Jetsam smiled, goofy and sweet.

Cheryl Blossom glanced over her shoulder. Her sticky and hot voice was one that always stood out of the crowd. Heels clicked over to Jetsam. He looked at her, plainly. She purred.

"Hello, Jetty."

"Cheryl."

"Don't you look devilishly broody today." Her hand went to Jetsam's shoulder, "How are you liking being back in the real world?"

Betty cut her off, "Lay off. He's already had enough going on."

"That makes two of us." Cheryl's voice had a bite in it that Jet recognized in his own voice. He smiled, "Well… therapy is normally where people start when you lose something? Thought about investing in one, Cheryl?"

She smirked, "I don't know. Have you, Jetsam?"

The heels clicked away. Betty put her hand on Jetsam's. He flinched. She turned the palm over.

"I thought you said you stopped."

—

Jetsam felt the flame on the palm of his hand. The lighter was green and it matched the grass. He had grown used to the feeling of being burned. It kept him calm. Jetsam remembered the river. He remembered jumping off into the cold water, feeling the rush of adrenaline pulsing through his veins. It was uncontrolled.

He was uncontrolled.

This controlled him.

Up in the city, Jetsam was homeless. He said he was sixteen and worked odd jobs in order to pay for food. He saved up enough to get a hotel one night. The shower he took was scalding hot. He ate pizza, an entire one. Jetsam didn't know how to not fight against the world. It was all he had ever done.

A Serpent found him.

Jetsam went back to Riverdale three days later.

—

Jughead couldn't tell what was wrong with Jetsam. School wasn't going well for him, but he always had a hard time concentrating. Jetsam carried a lighter with him; Jughead noticed. He remembered their childhood.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

Jetsam was there when the elementary school caught on fire. Jughead told Jet to run as far away as possible. He told him not to look back. Jughead held the matches when the police and firemen came.

Jughead had to. The look on his brother's face terrified him.

It was like he wanted to be lit up.

—

Betty had a soft spot for Jetsam. He was everything she wasn't. He was daring and jarring and somehow mixed up in weird and wonderful ways. He was red; she was blue. The two seemed to work with one another, instead of against.

She stuck her hand out, "Give it to me, Jetsam Jones." Her hip cocked to the side. Veronica noted the new boy, her fingers grazing the table as the conversation continued.

"No, Elizabeth." Jetsam spat out her name, like it was poison on his tongue. Betty only hardened. Jughead walked over, "Jet, it's better if you give it."

Jetsam clenched his fists together, "I said no."

"No to what?" Veronica gracefully made her way into the circle.

Betty looked down at his pockets, "Jetsam's lighter." She made a motion to grab it, but Jetsam backed up. Jughead pinched the bridge of his nose, "When are you going to stop being so difficult, Jetsam? Huh? Why the hell are you even back here? If you want to leave, go leave."

Jetsam's face turned red. He hit the table before storming out.

Veronica glanced around, "Well… someone's got a bit of a temper."

—

Cheryl Blossom did not know what to make of Jetsam Jones being back. She had eyed him ever since they were younger. She knew he eyed him too. There used to be a caring side to Cheryl; her soft spot was the devilish boy with the flames.

The redhead saw him more than anyone else. She knew him just from their brief interactions, stolen glances across the room. Her eyes watched his skin become more red than pale throughout the years.

Ever since Jason she wondered what it'd be like to be close to someone again. Jetsam had never been close to anyone, other than Jughead maybe. She had alway yearned for skin on skin interactions.

Perhaps Jetsam would be her salvation.

She laughed.

* * *

A/N: I am so sorry this took forever! But I am so thankful for all the reviews and support with this story. Jetsam is such a fun character to write. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you want to give it a like or a review, please do. As always, you can find me on my tumblr at dodierps for sneak peaks among other things. Have a nice day!


	3. Chapter Three: safe

**TRIGGER WARNINGS:**

alcoholism, underage drinking & physical assault

 **VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED**

* * *

CHAPTER THREE:

* * *

FP had never known what to do with his oldest son. He reminded him so much of his past self. This uncontrolled angry being. FP took another sip, running his fingers through his hair. He looked back in the closet. He always said today would be the day he would quit.

There hung Jason Blossom's jacket.

There hung his demise.

There he hung.

Jetsam, a boy who wanted to escape. Just like Jason.

Jason was someone's son and he took that away from them.

FP reached for the bottle.

—

Polly smiled politely at the Blossom's. She knew she had to be smart about this. She knew that she had to be devious and kind. It was quite easy, putting on a show. Her hand sat neatly on her pronounced stomach. She was neatly put together.

Of course, she knew there was a reason for the Blossom's hospitality— there had to be. She just didn't know what yet. Maybe it was to have Jason back in their arms, a part of his DNA in her child. Maybe it was to get back at the Cooper's.

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't for their own good.

But, everyone knew otherwise.

—

Jetsam sat next to Ethel in their English class. The two never really spoke, but he understood where that poem came from. It came from a place of hurt. His hands twitched. He wanted to reach for the lighter, but he didn't. He didn't know where to start with the hurt.

Veronica noticed him twitching. She glanced down at his fingers before looking up at Ethel, who was walking towards her seat. The bell rang shortly after, and the trio made their way to the student lounge.

The brunette talked with Ethel, and Jetsam sat alone. He always sat alone. Suddenly, he heard his name, "Um, what?"

"Yeah, Jetsam will be there." Veronica smiled her sweet, bright smile.

"No, I won't." Jetsam bit back.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. Kevin, want some pampering?"

Jetsam went back to his secluded world. He hummed underneath his breath, a show tune from Newsies. That had been his favorite since he was little.

There was talent in him, somewhere. There was a star to be born.

But, maybe he just needed to explode first.

—

Jughead didn't know where Jetsam ran off to at night. He got a call from Betty, though, asking him to come over. She pleaded, never saying why. Alice Cooper would not be pleased to hear that her youngest was crying out for a him at eleven o'clock at night.

But, he rushed over. Alice stood to the side, and Jughead hated what he saw.

He saw Betty trying to get the hunched over figure to look at her. Alice, watching the two. He noticed the leather jacket and immediately rushed over, "Jet?"

Jetsam had blood on his hands again. Jughead couldn't tell if he had been crying or if he was high. He hoped it was the foremost. Jetsam looked up at Jughead, his breath reeking of liquor.

"What the hell, Jet—!"

Betty scolded him, "Don't yell, Juggie." She looked at Jetsam, "Show him, Jet."

Jet looked up, a fat bruise on his eye.

"I went to go see Dad. I had been drinking, I don't know why I wanted to see him…" He muttered, rambling like Jughead had never seen, "And he yelled at me. He said I was the reason— I was the reason. But he never told me what the reason was." Jet looked down, "And I yelled and hit the wall, so he hit me. Just like he always wanted to."

Jughead rolled his eyes, "Don't be dramatic."

"We both know who brought me back, Jughead Jones." Jetsam looked up at him, "And no one here believes me."

Jughead bent down, "Dad wouldn't do that."

"Oh, you wanna bet?"

—

Cheryl walked into school the next day, eyes gazing for her lonesome, broody boy. Once she found him, she walked over, "Why hello there, Jetty."

Jetsam turned to her, "What do you want, Cheryl?"

"Oh, me, want something?"

He went back to his locker. Cheryl placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her, slowly. She pulled up his sleeve (it had always interested her why he wore long sleeves, even in the summertime). What she saw surprised her.

Burns.

"Jetsam…" Of course, she did care to some extent about people. No one in Riverdale (that she knew of) ever hurt themselves. They only hurt other people. Jetsam pulled back.

"Don't, Cheryl."

"You need to tell someone."

Jetsam bit his lip, stifling a laugh, "And you need to realize not everyone gets happily ever afters."

He slammed his locker and walked away. It was only after that Cheryl realized he didn't show his face.

—

Jughead realized Jetsam wasn't at Math today.

Ethel realized he wasn't in English.

Betty, in History.

Archie, at lunch.

Cheryl wasn't at any of their classes either.

—

"This is where he was shot." Cheryl looked over at Jet. Jet and Cheryl were sitting down. He had shown her how to skip rocks. She wasn't nearly as good as he was at it, but that didn't stop her. Jetsam bit his lip.

"Geez, that really sucks." Jetsam skipped another rock. Cheryl let out a laugh.

He noticed she even tipped her head back as she did so. Her pale cheeks flushed with color for a split second. Jetsam skipped a rock, chuckling with her. His arm wrapped around Cheryl's waist,  
"Cm'here, Blossom."

She hadn't felt this relaxed in so long. Her hand traced his jacket.

"Jetsam?" Cheryl looked up at him.

"Yeah?" He looked down. Her layers were breaking, walls built up falling in less than a school's day.

"I've never skipped a day of school." She looked down, "I'm going to get into big trouble."

Jetsam shrugged, "You made the choice, Princess." He laughed. Cheryl looked up at him.

"It's not funny."

"Well, Miss 4.0, I think it's hysterical."

Jetsam didn't know why, but he kissed her forehead. He was like a moth drawn to a flame.

—

Cheryl didn't mind skipping the day for some reason.

Her parents were livid, as expected.

But she had never felt better.

* * *

A/N: So, random update! Yay? I hope y'all have enjoyed. As always, you can find me on dodierps for updates, sneak peaks, and whatnot.


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